


Free Delivery

by atomicmayo



Series: Dewmie Fictober 2019 Fills [8]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Family Dinners, Fluff and Angst, Food, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Recipes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-29 10:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicmayo/pseuds/atomicmayo
Summary: From the Fictober 2019 prompt: "Could you stay?" Jamie uses his incredible Mailman Powers of Deduction to score free food from the Dewey household.





	Free Delivery

Bill wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and draped it over one shoulder as he opened the door to reveal a haggard-looking Jamie with a package.

"Good Evening!" Jamie sounded cheerful despite the bags under his eyes as he held up the small box and hazarded, "guitar picks and strings?"

"Hello, Jamie - and you’d be right! How do you do that?"

"Magical powers - and the packing slip fell out of the window on the front," he finished with a smirk and handed it to Bill.

"I’m surprised you’re working so late," Bill accepted the plastic stylus from Jamie as well, signing his name, "it’s well after six!"

"Yeah, you’re my last delivery, actually. Ms. Cheddarton's dog, Thaddeus, got loose again. I had to hide in the post office for two hours until Animal Control finally got him! Since you're on my street anyway, Barb said she’d clock me out and I could go straight home."

He paused for a second and Bill watched him take a deep breath in. 

"Wow, it smells amazing in there - making dinner?"

"Made," Bill corrected, "I was waiting for Buck to get home, but I’m about to give in and start without him. This is the third week in a row I’ve cooked for him and he hasn’t gotten home until late," he shook his head, "he used to love Wednesday dinners - even when I messed them up!"

Whatever it was certainly didn't _smell_ like a mess up tonight to Jamie. Smoky, but pleasant, like toasted spices paired with something roasted. A pop of fresh baked bread in the air topped it all off, mingling with the other scents and provide a hearty, mouth-watering complexity. Jamie's thoughts turned to the uncooked instant ramen he ate while waiting for Thaddeus's reign of terror to end and realized he never got a real lunch that day. The most appetizing thing in his fridge at the moment was some dried-out, leftover pizza. His heart sank as he glanced into Bill's dining room, all Georgian panels and a set table, just visible from the doorway.

"I’m sorry to hear that. It smells like he’s definitely missing out! I’m jealous," Jamie admitted.

"He mentioned wanting more vegetarian food, so I tried a shakshuka recipe," Bill smiled. Jamie was about to bless him for sneezing. 

"What’s shak...sha..?"

"Shakshuka! It’s poached eggs in a tomato sauce with roasted peppers and spices. You’re supposed to dip it in bread, so I even found an easy naan recipe. I suppose pita bread would be more traditional, but..."

"I should look it up for myself some time!" Jamie replied, stepping on the end of Bill's sentence a little. He continued at a clip, "you managed to whet my appetite and that means salvaging some three-day old pizza in my fridge, so home for me! Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Dewey," he tipped his pith helmet politely and turned on his heel to leave, his abrupt exit to hide the loud growling sound his stomach was about to make.

Bill was slightly thrown by the quickness of it all and murmured a confused little "thanks". He had forgotten the towel was still on his shoulder and it got caught in the door as he tried to shut it. Jamie didn't notice.

Jamie began making his way home, which required a little backtracking. The Dewey house - easily the oldest house in town and still occasionally called "the mayor's house" in error _and_ out of habit by the locals - was just up the hill from from Jamie's smaller, newer rental. Jamie was used to being on his feet all day, but it was late and he was tired; his toes started to burn and twitch as he continued down the hill. His stomach complained at him once more and he patted it grumpily. He tried to distract himself by mentally guessing how 'shakshuka' was spelled and regretted not simply asking Bill for the recipe.

He nearly had reached his front door, the Beach City water tower starting to cast an early evening shadow over his door frame, as footsteps tapping down the hill got him to turn around. The next thing Jamie knew, a bundle of warm tin foil and a tempered glass container was pressed into his hands.

"I was thinking you should try some first before you make it," Bill explained, a little out of breath, "wouldn't want you spending all that time and doing all that work on something you won't even like!"

Jamie blinked at him for a second and looked down at the food as it warmed his hands before he blurted out, "thanks, Mr. Dewey!" His stomach gave a final growl - a 'renk-roo' that sounded like it gained sentience to thank Bill itself. Jamie blushed.

"You’re welcome! And um, you can call me 'Bill' if you like," his eyes darted around like he was vaguely embarrassed to say it and quickly added, "anyway, enjoy!" 

Bill hiked back up the hill to his house. Jamie took his precious cargo inside and started eating before he sat down.

To keep his mind attuned to the complexities of the human condition for the sake of his craft, Jamie liked to speculate about the dynamics of various Beach City families by what packages he would have to deliver to them - it let him have a pleasant bit of distraction as he went about his otherwise mundane workday. For example, Yellow Tail bought Vidalia little gifts of painting supplies, but Jamie believed they were probably intended as surprises, as the delivery instructions requested Jamie always drop them off at the docks when Yellow Tail's boat was moored. Once Yellow Tail's boat was _out_ and Jamie had persuade Onion to sign for it - a harrowing adventure in itself.

Jamie had noticed Bill went from larger, novel purchases about once a month - usually from artsy, niche hobby shops - to smaller things once a week or so, always from the same online music retailer. Still trying to spoil Buck despite having a lower income, by Jamie's assessment. After all, Bill had gone from being mayor to working at the Big Donut.

Bill’s special Wednesday Dinners and Buck’s recent absences, combined with this deductive skill of Jamie's, was dangerous. Jamie told himself he wasn't _exactly_ gunning for free food, but he was able to predict when the packages would be coming in, and then pull strings to deliver those packages each Wednesday to the Dewey house for the next three weeks - always having something to push him into getting home just a little later.

Bill rewarded him handsomely for the tiniest bit of flattery on the nice smells coming from the kitchen. The container from the shakshuka Jamie demolished the first night accompanied another one from polenta shepherd's pie the next Wednesday (Bill gave him samples of both vegetarian and carnivorous versions as Jamie seemed interested in both) and yet another container from smoked salmon with gold potatoes and some sort of berry cream sauce the Wednesday after that. Bill let Jamie in on the apparent secret that his skill as an improvisational cook was sorely lacking and he went by recipes very closely, but they were cooked meals to Jamie all the same.

There was an added plus to thinking about the dynamics of other families for Jamie - it kept him from thinking too much about his own, or lack thereof. He flicked resentful thoughts from his mind like crunchy berry seeds as he washed the last of the containers Bill gave him. Jamie grew up barely knowing how to make breakfast for himself, let alone cook anything nutritious.

Still, he wanted to do something more than return a tower of Pyrex. He started googling.

The next Wednesday, Jamie intentionally came home on time, changed his clothes, and grabbed something out of his freezer before heading up the hill to the Dewey house. He rang the doorbell. When Bill answered, Jamie revealed a metal cake pan with some plastic wrap covering it. Inside was something creamy with a swirl of chocolate marble patterns throughout.

"Coconut-cream ice cream with chocolate almond swirl," he announced with a flourish and a bow, "for you, sir."

Bill's eyes widened. "Wow, that looks incredible! You made this yourself?"

"I did! I’ve had a few too many mishaps when I try to bake, so frozen desserts are usually what I stick to these days."

"I can relate to that," Bill chuckled, delicately avoiding how many kitchen fires he caused over the years, "thank you! You’re going to give me this whole thing, though? It's awfully big, why don't I let you take home half and--"

"I will not hear of it, sir," Jamie proclaimed theatrically, "you’ve fed me every Wednesday for almost a month now. It’s the least I can do. Oh! And here's all your containers back," he added sheepishly, adding a clanking paper shopping bag to the load. Bill took the pan, set the bag down next to the door, and stared.

"Hey, um, Jamie? Would you mind..." he opened and closed his mouth a couple times.

"Yeah?"

"Could you stay?" Bill finally managed to ask. His fingertips were starting to leave melted spots in the frost on either edge of the ice cream pan.

"It just seems like kind of a waste, you bringing something so nice and leaving. We can put your ice cream in the freezer and I can finish cooking, if you’d like dinner first. I shouldn’t be long," he stepped aside and waited, holding the ice cream pan in one hand, his other hand behind his back and balled up to hold a bit of nervousness inside.

Jamie stood outside the door for a moment, considering, "I had a script I wanted to edit tonight, but…"

"Have dinner here first and then you’ll have fuel to finish your editing! If you liked the smoked salmon last week, I actually got some more for pasta," he said hopefully.

Jamie smiled and walked inside.

After salad, the main, seconds, and a couple glasses each of an ‘old but not fancy’ bottle of wine, they sat with ice cream and coffee. It had gotten dark out and the occasional clap of thunder in the distance punctuated their conversation for them.

They were both full, slightly buzzed and trying not to betray just how much they had enjoyed the company. Bill admitted to Jamie that once he gave up the mayor's seat to Nanefua, he missed the planning meetings where he would hear about Jamie's ideas for plays; he explained didn't always understand the details of theater or art really, but he liked hearing someone else be so passionate about it. That was enough to get Jamie going for a while about his current projects - all one-man shows in development. He even confessed to a couple auditions he ventured out to Empire City for. Neither audition resulted in any callbacks, but it was the first time Jamie told anybody about it. It was also the first time anyone cared, which felt like a success on its own.

Bill always came off as supportive to Jamie, even under all the stress of being mayor - budget issues and family legacies not withstanding, but even that ultimately turned out all right. Bill's tone and interest seemed more heartfelt now, like he finally had time to fully pay attention to someone that had been in front of him all along. Jamie basked in the feeling like it was sunshine as he ate his dessert. He didn't want this to stop...

"--so much for the script, tonight, hm?" Bill asked, breaking Jamie from his musings. A flash of lightning in the distance made them both glance out the living room window.

"I think I'm okay with that for tonight. I can't remember when I last had a whole meal like this, let alone someone to share it with."

He thanked Bill for dinner and Bill thanked him for dessert in turn, allowing themselves a bit of extended eye contact before smiling and turning back to their desserts. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment or two until Bill looked at the grandfather clock and sighed.

"Glad I went ahead and put the leftovers away. Still no Buck."

"Doesn’t he call or text you? Let you know if he’s going to be home later?" Jamie asked.

"Oh no, I’m sure he's fine. He just loses track of time with his friends," Bill laughed, "we don’t really spell things out like that to each other, we just… develop understandings!" The tiniest bead of sweat appeared at his brow as he spoke.

Jamie was about to ask something when a bolt of lightning crashed down close by and they jumped. The front door burst open.

"Daaad," they heard Buck call from the entryway.

**Author's Note:**

> Basic Shakshuka recipe is [here](http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2016/09/shakshuka-north-african-shirred-eggs-tomato-pepper-recipe.html).  
Easy naan bread recipe is [here](https://myfoodstory.com/instant-naan-in-under-30-minutes-recipe/).
> 
> If Dewey can make it, so can you!


End file.
